


A Kind of Magic

by coolbyrne



Series: In Time [5]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Two undercover agents in the Victorian era discover each other's identity, only to realize they've had many over the eras.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Series: In Time [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701886
Comments: 24
Kudos: 43





	A Kind of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> I feel this is the weakest one, because it's the only 'role' I've given Gibbs that doesn't fit right for me. But I hope I've given enough to make it somewhat plausible. I'm also sorry if I spoiled The Prestige for anyone. Or any other trick's I've spoiled!
> 
> Mentions of the Crimean War and the allusion to what Jack is doing puts this fic in 1855.

“I need you to make a woman disappear for me.”

He paused at the visitor in the dressing room, then closed the door behind him. Tossing the Cahill onto the table, he combed his fingers through his hair and poured a whiskey without offering one for the man who was leaning against his desk. Instead, he unbuttoned his vest and flopped onto the velvet loveseat, careful to avoid spilling the drink. He waited for the amber to burn its way down his throat before he spoke.

“Which ex-wife of mine did ya hook up with now, Tobias?”

“Very funny, Gibbs,” the man said, taking it upon himself to pour a drink. “It’s not like that; it’s a matter of national security.” Gibbs looked up from his glass and before he could retort, Tobias quickly added, “Not like last time. For real, this time.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m not kidding, Jethro.”

The use of his Christian name got his attention. Despite knowing he’d regret it later, he said, “Talk to me.”

“A woman’s scheduled to leave the country on Saturday. But she’s going to leave tomorrow night.”

“And you want me to do what?”

“Make her disappear. I saw the Magnificent Maestro do it last week at the Pennington.”

He drained his glass then poured another. “Ya know that’s not real, right? The box has a false door.”

Tobias’s shoulders sank. “Why’d ya have to tell me that? I liked the surprise.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “So why don’t you get Magnificent Maestro to do it?”

“One, because you’re the best exit man in the country and two,” Tobias emptied his own glass, “we’re pretty sure Magnificent Maestro is working for the Russians.” Seeing Gibbs’ eyebrows go up, he said, “What? You think you’re the only guy undercover in this town?”

Considering the Crimean War was at its height, both men knew the question was rhetorical; London was rife with spies, not all on the Queen’s payroll. Gibbs answered it nonetheless.

“Just didn’t think magicians would be so popular.”

“Yeah, well, I need you to work your magic on this woman and God, that came out wrong. Your professional magic.”

Gibbs grinned. “What’s her story?”

“Jacqueline Belliveau. One of 3 women in the Home Office, the only one who can speak French. She’s been running back and forth between here and Paris for the last 8 months, but we think the Russians are on to her. But she’s already been given the information she needs for her next drop.”

“Why can’t someone else do it?”

“Because Pierre Arsehole likes her best.” Tobias made a face. “Probably the reason her cover was blown.”

Gibbs laughed into his drink, nodding his agreement. Pierre Arsenault was one of the most respected men in the secrets business, and it was his arrogance that made sure everyone knew. 

“So what’s the set-up?”

Fornell poured another drink and got comfortable. “We know she’s being followed. Two guys, as obvious as a pair of warts, have been tailing her for three days. We’re not sure they know anything other than she’s delivering a message.”

“So they’re stayin’ close in case she leaves town.”

“Right. So we’re going to get them to follow her here, you’re going to do your Abracadabra, and she’s going to be gone. We’ll bustle her down to the harbour; the _Centurion_ will be waiting to take her.”

“You don’t think these goons’ll get suspicious when I make her disappear and not come back?”

Tobias shrugged. “It’s magic. That’s your department to figure out.”

“Right,” he muttered. “So when do I get to meet her?”

“She’s been waiting in the hallway the whole time. Lemme get her.”

“The hallway?”

“Believe me,” Tobias said, standing, “she can take care of herself.” Finding a third glass, he offered, “Pour her a whiskey. Get off on the right foot.”

He rolled his eyes at the suggestion, but stood and filled all three glasses. When he heard their return, he picked up the new one and turned to offer it to the new guest. He nearly dropped it when he saw her.

Oblivious to his reaction, Fornell made the introductions. “Jacqueline Belliveau, Jethro Gibbs. Gibbs, Jacqueline.” When his spiel was over and no one spoke, he narrowed his eyes. “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes?”

Tobias looked at Gibbs, then to Jacqueline. “Sorry?”

“Yes.”

“No?”

“Great,” Fornell said sarcastically, “glad we got that cleared up.”

She laughed and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Agent Gibbs. Or should I call you the Amazing Andrews?”

He grimaced at the stage name. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

Her laugh didn’t fade. “Agent Gibbs it is, then.”

“Just Gibbs. Jacqueline.”

There was a teasing familiarity to the way he said it that made Tobias lean in closer. “You two _don’t_ know each other, do you?”

Rather than answer, Jack said to Gibbs, “I hear you’re the man to come to if a woman wants to disappear.”

“Well,” he said, “I’ve worked with rabbits and doves. Making a woman disappear shouldn’t be too hard.”

“He just lets them live with him for a few years and they disappear on their own,” Tobias cracked. 

Jack hummed. “It’s too bad I don’t have that kind of time. I think I’d learn to like having you around.”

Noticeable to everyone but Tobias, the air went out of the room at her quip, and blue eyes locked on to brown. Jack glanced down where their hands were still clasped together.

“I- So how does it work?”

“False door in the box.” Fornell caught Gibbs’ blank stare. “What? You don’t think I don’t know things?” Quickly, before Gibbs could counter, he added, “Problem is, how do we make it convincing? How do we keep them occupied in the meantime?”

“Second question answers the first,” Gibbs said, his eyes going back to Jack. “We make you disappear just long enough to make them start thinkin’ something’s up. Then we make you reappear again.”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that when she’ll be out of dock by then?”

The smirk tugged at his mouth. “Trick of the trade. Gonna borrow one from the Boothe brothers.”

“Boothe _brothers_?” Tobias repeated. “There’s only one.”

“They’re twins,” Gibbs explained. “It’s how they do the teleportation trick.”

‘Teleporting’ the magician from a box on one side of the stage to a box on the other was Charles Boothe’s signature trick that had astounded audiences for years. To hear the secret revealed so casually made Fornell groan.

“You had to go and wreck it for me, didn’t you?”

“Thought you knew things, Tobias.”

He grunted. “Twins, huh? That’s good.”

“Doesn’t quite help us, though,” Jack said. “I don’t have a twin.”

Tobias nodded, still sore at being spoiled for the trick. “Yeah, she doesn’t have a twin.”

“Doesn’t have to be identical,” Gibbs said. “Just close enough that it’ll fool people long enough for the plan to work.”

“And where do you suggest we get this ‘twin’?”

…..

“Well, if it isn’t the Amazing Andrews!”

He leaned his tall frame against the door to the dressing room. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that, Liz,” he said, kissing her cheek. “How’s kicks?”

“Oh, I get it!” she exclaimed with a false exuberance. “We’re chorus girls. Kicks. So funny! What do you want?”

“Wow, is that any way to treat an old friend?”

“Awww.” She leaned up to return the kiss. “Now, what do you want?”

“It’s what I’ve always liked about you, Liz. Right to the point. I’m lookin’ for a woman.”

“I don’t know what to tell you; you’ve already gone through all my redheads.”

He tried to stare her down, but she was having none of it. Recognizing a lost cause when he saw one, he said, “I’m lookin’ for a blonde.”

“Oh? Well, I’ve got a few of those. Trying a new flavour?”

“It’s not like that, Liz. I need one for my act.”

“An assistant? Like the Magnificent Maestro!”

His assessment of the magician was well known and the glint in her eye told him she knew, too.

“He has a key in his mouth to get out of the handcuffs.”

Her mouth dropped. “You ruined that for me! Bastard.” She shook her head in disapproval, holding his gaze. Then she asked, “How does he do the connecting rings?”

“Liz.”

“Right, right. A woman. A blonde.”

“One night only,” he added. “Tomorrow night.”

“You’re not going to saw her in half, are you? I’m short staffed as it is.”

“That would require 2 women.” He watched as she tried to work out the trick in her head.

“Dammit!” she said, the solution coming to her. “Aren’t you magicians supposed to take these secrets to the grave or something?”

“I’m gonna live forever, Liz.”

“Why do I almost believe you?” She patted his cheek. “Okay, any blonde or do you have someone in mind?”

“Cynthia still around?”

“Sure. Let me get her.”

He waited in the hallway and acknowledged some of the other acts that walked across the stage on any given night. He was only one of a dozen that entertained an audience, from chorus girls to singers to jugglers. He’d been around the longest, but they were all like family. The door opened again and two women appeared.

“Hey, Jethro,” Cynthia said in the doorway.

“And you prefer that over ‘Amazing Andrews’?” Liz wrinkled her nose. “I need her back for the Saturday matinee, so if you make her disappear, for God’s sake, make sure she comes back.”

“Funny you should mention that.”

…..

Tobias stood with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. He had been looking at the two women standing side-by-side for the last five minutes, the gears in his brain the only sound -real or imagined- in the room. Finally, he nodded his verdict.

“It’s almost uncanny.”

Gibbs cast his eyes on the women and agreed the physical resemblance was close, though there was nothing about the chorus girl that made his chest tighten and his throat dry the way Jack did. The flicker that had flamed the minute she had walked into his room didn’t dissipate; in fact, the cord had only been pulled tauter between them. If the way she kept looking at him, like she was worried he’d disappear if she looked away was anything to go by, she felt it, too. 

Trying to bring himself to the here and now instead of wherever her eyes were taking him, he said, “The trick’s easy; I can build a box that’ll be ready for tomorrow. It’ll only take a second to show you how it works.”

“And clothes?”

He glanced at Tobias. “I’ll talk to Liz.”

The suggestion made Jack object. “I am not wearing a chorus girl’s outfit to-” She stopped, not wanting to reveal the real reason behind the trick. “No offense,” she quickly said to Cynthia.

“None taken,” she assured her. “I rarely want to wear them and I get paid.” To Gibbs, she said, “So that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay. When do you need me tomorrow?”

He contemplated the time. “Curtain goes up at 7. Your part is the easiest,” he told her. “Just make sure you’re in costume by 6:30. Meet us back here.”

“No problem, sugar.” She swayed past him but not before planting a kiss on his cheek. “If you’re ever looking to switch blondes-” She let the invitation hang in the air as she walked out the door.

Gauging the unexplained shift in the room, Tobias coughed and said, “That’s my cue. You sure you can get that box going by tomorrow night?”

“Yep.”

“Because if not, I can always ask the Magnificent Maestro if we can bor-” Gibbs’ glare did nothing to stop the grin that spread across Tobias’ face. “And on that note. Ms. Belliveau, shall we?”

The thought of leaving clearly hadn’t crossed her mind, because she stumbled through her reply. “I-”

“I’m gonna need to take some measurements,” Gibbs said quickly. 

Perhaps too quickly, because Tobias snorted. “I bet you do.” On a more serious note, he said, “You sure she’ll get home okay?” He heard his own words and shook his head. “What am I saying? Of course she will. I’ll come by around 5 so we can walk through everything.”

“Goodnight, Tobias,”Jack said warmly. 

He tipped his head to her and Gibbs and closed the door behind him.

Silence settled between them as their eyes searched over the other. Grabbing a nearby ball of string, he unwound an arm’s length and slowly approached her. He looped the string around her shoulders and brought the ends together, bringing her closer.

“You don’t really need to take my measurements, do you?” she said, transfixed by his gaze.

“No.”

“No,” she echoed. “I somehow get the feeling we’ve done this before.” Seeing Gibbs’ conflicted look, she said, “You’re a magician. Explain it.”

He smiled. “Not sure it’s a trick, Jack.” 

It was the first time he had called her by her first name, and by the shortened version she preferred. She showed her pleasure by tugging at his vest and smiling.

“Not an illusion?” she asked.

“If it is, I’m not sure I wanna learn the secret.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Taking into account the amount of time they may have been referring to, she amended it with, “As far as I know.” He chuckled under her fingertips that had found their way to the hollow in his throat. She tapped the pulse and stepped back. “So tell me how it works. The box, I mean.”

He could almost see the wall being built between them, and it was surprising to be on the receiving end of it. “Jack-”

Her wayward hand wanted to reach for him again, but instead found its way in her hair. “You can’t tell me you’re not even a little sceptical.”

He offered a shrug that agreed. “Nature of my job.”

“Nature of both our jobs. We’ve been trained almost our entire lives to not believe everything we see, and yet, here we are.”

It wasn’t that there wasn’t truth to what she was saying; they both lived lives mired in suspicion and dealt in the currency of deception. Their first instinct was to doubt, their second to deny. But he knew her. He _knew_ her. Somehow, in a field of flowers or battle, in a room full of people or alone, he could look at her and see nothing but truth. 

“Then close your eyes.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Sloane.”

Hearing her real surname, the one she hadn’t revealed to him, made her take the chance and her eyes fluttered shut. She felt him move closer, could curl up in the heat that emanated from him. When she didn’t feel the touch she expected, she blindly reached out, her hand bumping against his arm. Her fingers curled around his bicep and she stepped forward until her nose brushed across his collarbone. She knew what he was trying to do- removing the sense of sight and making her rely on the other 4, and ‘touch’ was already coming back a positive. The sturdiness of him under her palms spoke of other times she had held on, in desperation and in desire, and the taste of him under her tentative lips had only ever belonged to one man, like the scent so familiar, she would have recognized it in a storm. And when his mouth became impatient and covered hers, the small growl that rumbled up his throat was a song she had been playing in the back of her mind her entire life. Entire lives. His hands slid around her waist and brought her hips tight against his, like he had grown impatient with her internal judgment. Feeling him against her, their pieces fitting together like a long-lost puzzle, had her following suit. 

Clinging to his shoulders and offering her neck for his exploration, she murmured, “Any chance you can make these clothes disappear?”

…..

The loveseat wasn’t big enough for one, let alone them both, and her neck told her so when she sat up. 

“Ouch.” She rotated her head back and forth, hoping to stretch the kinks out. She looked back at the man sprawled along the short furniture, his 6 foot frame spilling out over the sides. A morning stubble was already dusting across his jaw and she marvelled again at Fate. Whatever doubt that may have lingered had been cast aside when he had settled between her legs, giving her a sense of completion she hadn’t felt her entire life. This life. His hands and mouth and how they felt on her skin were old memories, older than she even knew. And in less than 12 hours, she’d have to let go. Again.

“You’re givin’ me a headache thinkin’ so hard,” he said from under the forearm he had splayed across his face.

“No, I think that’s just because the couch is too small.” She tried to inject some levity to her voice. She knew what needed to be done, knew the priority. The information she was being asked to smuggle into France would, in all likelihood, swing the war in both Britain’s favour and her allies. That was her job. That was her duty. Even if it meant turning her back on the man she had spent a lifetime looking for, without even realizing it.

“I gotta get the wood for the box,” he said, struggling to get to his feet. 

She watched him slip his legs into his pants, memorized how his fingers buttoned his shirt. She knew he was just as aware of the importance of the mission as she was. They were both paid to protect the Crown and knew the sacrifices that often needed to be made to ensure they did their jobs well. Even if that sacrifice was a personal one. 

“We do the job, you lay low for a few months, come back when it’s all over.”

They both knew it wasn’t going to be that simple now that the Russians knew who she was. She kissed him hard and pretended it didn’t feel like it was the first time he had ever lied to her.

…..

“So I don’t get to learn the secret?” Cynthia looked at the box in the dressing room and ran her hand along it to see if she could figure out the trick.

“Sorry, Cynthia,” Tobias said. “We need you up in the balcony for the ol’ switcheroo. But if we pull this off, I’ll show you later.”

“You’re a peach, Toby,” she praised, punctuating her thanks with a kiss on his cheek.

‘A peach’, Jack mouthed to Gibbs, who mouthed ‘Toby’ right back.

Not seeing, or perhaps ignoring the pair, Fornell went over the plan one more time. “Talk it back to me, Cynthia.”

“Okay,” she said. With a deep breath and her eyes at the ceiling, she recited, “Amazing Andrews opens the box and the lady here’s gone. He pretends to wonder what happened and does that for a bit until he gives up finding her. Just as he starts his endless ribbon trick, I show up in the balcony, he sees me, and I pretend I’m her.” She looked at Jack who was wearing the exact same outfit and winked. 

Picking up where the chorus girl left off, Jack said, “By that time, I’ll have switched clothes under the stage and will be on the Centurion by the time anyone’s the wiser.”

“‘Under the stage’,” Cynthia repeated. “There’s a trap door in the floor and that’s how you make her disappear!”

Despite his mood, Gibbs couldn’t help but quip, “Guess you’re not needed, Fornell.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he groused. “We all got everything? Jacqueline?” 

“Got it.” She watched his scan over her outfit. “You don’t need to know where.”

Tobias shrugged at the stern dismissal. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, right?” Gibbs’ look told him otherwise. “Anyway, I guess that’s it. You’ll do great.”

“We’ll all do great!” Cynthia vowed, tapping her hat, and the only one oblivious to the dangers.

…..

He had been undercover before- the Crimean War wasn’t the first threat against the Crown, though it may have been the most public in all his time working for the Home Office. But this one was the longest, and the one he hated the most. He prefered to linger on the shadow’s edge, hidden and quiet, not under the spotlight of the stage, in front of everyone. But he did it as best he could, finding his gruff personality actually worked in his favour, his audience enjoying the antithesis of the other performers in the city. He used it to his advantage that night.

With a flourish, the curtain open and applause brought him to the stage. 

“So I normally don’t do tricks with audience members,” he said, getting right to business, “because I’m pretty sure one of you’d screw it up.” His accusation was received with laughter. “But I got to talkin’ to that Maestro guy across town the other night and he bet me I couldn’t do that disappearin’ act he does.” The audience groaned their disapproval. “Yeah, that’s what I said. So we’re gonna give it a go tonight.” With a quick flick of his wrist, he pulled a sheet away to reveal a wooden box about the size of a small closet. “Who’s gonna help me?” Snapping his fingers, he directed the house spotlight to scan the crowd. A quick visual with Tobias who was sitting at the back of the theatre silently directed him to the 2 Russians who were 5 rows back on the right wing. He had seen Jack in the crowd already and made sure not to look her way until the very last minute. Pretending to not have a preference, he pointed at her. “You look trustworthy,” he said, and despite it all, they shared a secret smile.

“Tell the people your name.”

“Jacqueline,” she said. “Jacqueline Belliveau.”

“You got that?” he asked the crowd. “We might need to put that on a Missing Person flyer later if this doesn’t work.” To Jack, he asked loudly, “Do you trust me?”

Her amber eyes met his, blue with love, stormy with sadness. “Yes.” The word was meant solely for him, even as she said it amidst an audience.

Her honesty almost made him stumble, but he quickly collected himself and went on with the charade. “I’d like you to examine the box, please. Make sure it’s sturdy.” She did as he asked and when she was finished, he said, “Any last requests?”

She reached up and took his hat, much to the crowd’s delight. It was when she tapped it that he realized Cynthia had done the same in the dressing room. That she was able to remember the detail sent a rush of pride through him that was so evident on his face that she winked. “Until we meet again,” she said, her words general enough for the audience, but directed right at him. He made room in his hurt heart for her smile.

He tossed the sheet back onto the box and pretended to wave his hands around dramatically. They had practiced it earlier, knowing exactly how long it would take her to slip down the trap door. When he got to 11, he pulled the sheet down and opened the box. Of course, she was gone. The crowd gasped.

“Huh,” he said. “I gotta be honest, I didn’t think that would work.” He reached into his pocket for the ribbons for the next trick and was getting it ready when the audience started to murmur and stir. Looking up, he feigned confusion, even as some members pointed to the box. “What? Oh! Yeah, I guess I should bring her back.” He scratched his head. “I didn’t practice this part, but how hard can it be, right? I’ll just put the cover back on, wave my hands and say ‘Abracadabra’ or whatever it is Maestro says.” He did the actions as he said them, ending it by pulling the sheet off for the final time and opening the door. It was empty. He made a show of searching the inside, only to come out rubbing his chin. “Yeah. Okay. Lemme try it again.” He repeated all the action again, and came to the same conclusion. “Maybe this wasn’t as easy as it looked?”

“Get the Magnificent Maestro!” Tobias shouted from the back, creating an even longer diversion.

“Hey! You’ll be next in the box, buddy.” Scratching his head, Gibbs said, “So I’m gonna go into my next trick and hope for the best.” As he pulled the ribbon from his pocket a second time, he gave the light guy a nod, and on cue, the spotlight flashed up to the balcony where Cynthia, looking remarkably like Jack from a distance, waved, and the audience cheered. The Russians, who had begun to argue between each other, seemed appeased by her appearance and joined in the applause. 

“You should probably stay up there for the rest of the night,” Gibbs suggested. “Not sure I’d trust me.”

The audience laughed and he went on with the show.

…..

He had had his head in his hands for the last 15 minutes when Tobias knocked on the door and slipped inside. 

“Just thought you’d want to know everything went off without a hitch.”

Gibbs sat back, his face blank. “Great.”

Pouring 2 drinks, he held out one of the glasses and frowned. “What’s the problem?”

“No problem.” He looked into the drink and downed it in one shot. “Gettin’ tired of the rain, I guess.”

Tobias narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Heard there might be a job in Kanpur.”

“Kanp- _India_?” When Gibbs didn’t reply, he shook his head. “What the hell has gotten into you?” Gibbs was silent again, only taking the time to refill his glass. “You knew her, didn’t you?”

He knew he couldn’t lie to his oldest friend, found he didn’t want to. “Yeah.”

“Jesus, Gibbs.”

“I know.”

“There’s a good chance she’ll-” Tobias stopped. Gibbs wasn’t the only one who couldn’t lie to a friend. With her cover blown and the Russians following, France was likely the end of the line. “I’m gonna go,” he said. “There’s not enough whiskey here for both of us to get drunk.” He set his glass down, drink untouched. Resting his hand on Gibbs’ shoulder, he said, “I’ll come by tomorrow, see how you’re doin’.”

Gibbs took Fornell’s drink and tossed his head back, letting the alcohol burn down his throat. Tobias quietly closed the door behind him. Finally alone, Gibbs let his eyes wander around the room, the masochist in him lingering on the pile of clothes she left behind, though he allowed himself a small smile at the fact she had taken his hat. It wasn’t until he glanced at his desk that he saw it, a small piece of paper beside a quill pen and candle. Curiosity pulled him from the chair to the desk, and for a moment, he stood, puzzled at the blank paper. Then the candle flickered and he understood. He wasn’t the only one who dealt in tricks of the eye. Lifting the paper, he carefully waved it over the flame until words appeared. His laugh was surprisingly full considering how empty his heart felt.

_Another time_

…..

-end


End file.
